


Calm Me, Hurt Me

by mooniemurphy



Category: DWSA, Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Bobby Maler he's the worst, Enemies With Benefits, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Frenemies, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Slow Burn, Smut, Thea and Melitta are Rilows, Wendla Is Overprotective
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 09:06:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mooniemurphy/pseuds/mooniemurphy
Summary: The frenemies with benefits Melchior/Hanschen fic no one asked for.





	Calm Me, Hurt Me

Hanschen’s first thought when he saw Wendla storming towards him with a stony expression on her pretty face was to formulate a way to beg for forgiveness for whatever he’d done to piss her off. And then he realized he didn’t actually know what he had done to piss her off, and he was fairly certain he’d been behaving the past few days, so he didn’t think he had any reason to be begging for forgiveness at all.

“You’re glaring,” he signed without looking at her, extracting his chemistry textbook from his locker. He looked at her then, noting her crossed arms and stormy eyes with a frown and a heavy sigh. “What did I do?”

“You’re sleeping with Melchior Gabor.”

Hanschen barely managed to not wince. “Oh. That.” He wasn't aware that anyone had known.

It was a fairly recent thing, one that had sort of come from out of the blue when Ernst, who had just broken up with Hanschen, and Moritz, who Melchior had always loved, had started dating.

But it was just sex, nothing more or less. No feelings involved. No strings attached, and so Hanschen hadn't told anyone, not even Wendla or her girlfriend, who were Hanschen's closest friends, or his younger sisters. If one found out, their entire friend group would know.

“Yes, that! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Hanschen sighed and shut his locker, shoving his book into his bag so he could use both hands to sign. “I didn’t think it was news that needed to be publicly broadcast to anyone with ears or eyes. How did you even find out?”

“Ilse forced it out of Melchior. He--”

“Has no backbone,” Hanschen interrupted with a short, sharp exhale of breath, “so of course he told her.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Why is this so important? Can we not just move on? I sleep with a lot of people, it never matters.”

“You hate him,” she responded, her signs giving off the air that she was not impressed with his avoidance of the subject.

“I hate Bobby Maler, too, what’s your point?”

“You didn’t hate Bobby Maler the first time you slept together, so that’s different.”

Hanschen did wince then, hands clenching just a little bit. Wendla was lucky enough that Hanschen actually liked her, or he probably would have made some not very kind comments in response to that. They didn't talk about Bobby Maler.

Bobby Maler and his stupid khakis and his stupid face and his jackass attitude and his ability to break the heart no one had known Hanschen had-- Hanschen grimaced, aware that he had been spoken to.

“That’s true, however I do hate him now, and I still sleep with him on a fairly regular basis, so can I offer the theory that perhaps my judgement isn’t the best and we can just move on?”

“Hanschen!” Wendla protested, giving his sign name fiercely, and Hanschen exhaled a heavy breath through his nose.

“Look at that, not moving on. Whoever could have predicted that turn of events?” He rolled his eyes and started to walk away, bag drawn over his shoulder. Wendla stopped him with a hand on his wrist, and he had to exhale slowly so that he didn't yell at her. Not that she would have heard, but the point stood.

“Hansi,” Wendla hesitated, and Hanschen wanted to flinch from the altered form of his sign name that was supposed to represent the nickname Ernst had given him, “are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Do I ever, darling?” he responded carefully, and he was glad he didn't have to speak. Wendla, as overprotective and sweet and smart as she was, would have been able to detect the changes in his voice that signaled his annoyance and avoidance. If she could hear.

"I just want to know that you'll be okay if..."

"The day I give Melchior Gabor the power to hurt me is the day that I'll deserve to be hurt," Hanschen cut in. "There are no feelings involved here, Wendla. I'm a big boy, and I don't have a heart. I'll be fine."

Wendla looked suspicious, but she nodded slowly and then pulled him into a hug that, unwillingly, he allowed to happen. And then she signed, "Love you," and left, probably to find Ilse and make out. Hanschen rubbed his temples against the impending headache.

"What was that about?"

Hanschen turned towards the familiar voice, an eyebrow raised. Melchior was leaning against the wall, all dark hair and bright eyes, and something curled in the pit of Hanschen's stomach. Something he wasn't sure was lust, entirely. But he pushed that thought aside.

"Wendla being a momma bear. Are you sure that that pregnancy scare was just a scare? She seems awfully motherly."

"Funny," Melchior snorted. "And also, shut up."

Hanschen snickered, because, yeah, unlikely. But Melchior was clothed in tight pants that left nothing to the imagination, and Hanschen's mind went somewhere else, even forgetting that he was supposed to yell at him for telling Ilse about the two of them sleeping together when it didn't mean anything.

"Think we can make out in the music room without getting caught?" he asked, arching an eyebrow with a smirk, and Melchior chuckled softly.

"I'm all for trying new things."

They did get caught, but it was Georg and Melitta, and Hanschen couldn't be bothered to be embarrassed. Hopefully Georg would be so scarred by Hanschen's dick in Melchior's mouth that he would think twice about whatever he'd planned to do with Hanschen's sister in that same room.


End file.
